The Sins of the Nexus
by xx.trelane
Summary: Collection of 8 Oneshot Drabbles. The Sins that make the Nexus-human.
1. Prologue

**Title**: The Sins of the Nexus.

**Character**[**s**]: All members of the Nexus; both former and current.

**Pairings **[**if any**]: Will be stated in headers above the fic.

**Arthor's Notes**: Got the idea from a fic I read; yeah, I ran out of 'sins' when it came to it, so one gets a 'virtue'. Also is set to what John Cena said on RAW 08/16/10 about Nexus; 'they are nothing but human'. And Daniel Bryan gets the virtue-'cause he 'left' and joined team WWE. Oy, and I replaced lust with vanity, as from what I read is the SAME thing. I would also like to say, there may be a 'tiny' bit of bashing in these, but it's needed to show the flaw|sin-ideal I'm going with. Anywho-enough babbling-enjoy!

**Story Type**: Collection of 8 OneShots|Drabbles; Angst|Drama.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except and OC mentioned; unless stated otherwise.

**Plot Summary**: The sins that make the Nexus-human.

* * *

Vanity; Justin Gabriel-he only loves himself, and can't love you.

Gluttony; Skip Sheffield-he bites off more than he can chew.

Greed; Heath Slater-he strives for the best, but can not achieve.

Sloth; Dareen Young-he will not gain anything if he does nothing.

Wrath; Michael Traver-he has anger issues, and it will be the end of him.

Envy; David Otunga-he wants what is not his, and what he can not have.

Pride; Wade Barrett-he acts as a leader, but only thinks of his own status.

Diligence; Daniel Bryan-he overcame and worked for what he has.


	2. Vanity

**Title**: Vanity.

**Character**[**s**]: Justin Gabriel; Random Person.

**Pairings **[**if any**]: Gabriel|Random Person.

**Arthor's Notes**: Vanity; Okay Justin Gabriel just seemed to fit this. He's a bit 'out of character' but it's done on purpose. The 'random person' talking, is-whomever you want it to be.

**Story Type**: OneShot|Drabble; Angst|Drama.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Plot Summary**: Can Justin Gabriel say the words "You're Perfect?" to someone other than himself?

It's not everyday that when you look into the mirror you see perfection. You see something that everyone wishes they had. You only think of yourself, your hair, your finisher, your carrier. It's always about you. You never ask me about anything regarding yourself, you assume that everything is about you. "What are you doing this time Justin?" I ask you, standing behind you as you stare in the mirror, a sly smirk plastered on your face. "_Getting ready, why? Shouldn't you be doing the same? I mean, you're not going out there like THAT are you?" _you ask me, just giving me a small glance, you never say anything really honestly nice about how I look. It's all about you.

Scoffing, I turn my head; I couldn't understand why. I mean, I know you care about me, but sometimes I wonder how you ever show it? You hardly say I look nice, except when we're in the mood for hot steamy sexual escapades. Then you say I'm the best damn thing you ever laid your eyes-and hands-on. Other than that-you brush me off, like a spec of dirt on your shoulder. "What do you mean? I'm ready. Don't you think I look good, Justin?" I say, trying to reassure myself that I DO look good, I turn for you to-as if I am on a catwalk, but you pay me no mind. You just stare in that damned mirror, touching and fixing your hair.

"Justin?" I asked, but you scoff; "_Hold on, I'm almost done, babe._" you smirk, before fixing your hair again, then redoing your guyliner. I sigh in annoyance. "Come on you look fine." You always look fine, but stop getting glamed up; you always get galmoured up-and I'm sit on the shelf-in the background, while you live up the party.

You smirk to me. "_There_." I see you lick your lips, before winking your yourself in the mirror; turning to me, you wink. "_Perfection_." I arch a brow to you. Perfection? Yes. But flawed perfection. You're only as pretty as you are on the outside. On the inside, your ugly-selfish, and I do not understand why I put up with staying with you, aside from the fact, you are 'sex on legs' in my eyes. Emotions don't really mean anything to you, don't thay? "Yeah, perfection." I say softly, sighing and crossing my arms.

"_What? I'm unlike anyone in this company. I'm unique, I'm-everything you could ever want."_ you say to me as if that is supposed to make me feel better, it didn't. "You're right, but wrong." I defend myself, seeing the look in your eyes, because I question your 'perfection'. "You are unique, but you not everything I could ever what. What I want is someone to tell me I'm perfect-instead of you blabbering on about who perfect YOU are." Your eyes narrow, but your jaw drops; "If you have any sort of feelings for me, you'd tell me how beautiful and perfect I am."

You saw nothing, and just stand there in shock-and possibly annoyance at my words; "_Tell you your perfect?_" you say stupidly, I obviously got your brain working, I am standing my ground. "Yes. Tell me I'm pretty every now and again."


	3. Gluttony

**Title**: Gluttony.

**Character**[**s**]: Skip Sheffield; R-Truth; an OC.

**Pairings **[**if any**]: None.

**Arthor's Notes**: Gluttony; 'cause I dunno why, I gave him the lame one. Likewise; if he's a bit 'off character' as well-it's only because I don't really 'like' Skip. Sadly, I actually liked writing this one.

**Story Type**: Collection of 8 OneShots|Drabbles; Angst|Drama.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but Reagan.

**Plot Summary**: Skip Sheffield has a problem; he's an Obsessive-Compulsive Eater; eating to fill a void of-failure.

* * *

Licking his lips; Skip Sheffield was anxious about his match; he was more than ready for this fight. He was born to fight-to win. He eyed the snack cart in-front of him, as he frowned deeply to himself, he eyed the match-card; _R-Truth. _He knew he had no shot at winning this match and it scared him-but he'd never allow it to show;looking to his left; he arched a brow to the cameraman standing next to him, he knew what would come next. The interview by Reagan Jones-the newest diva-and backstage interviewer. This would be a walk in the park; quick, simple, and to the point. It did not help that, she was actually sexually appealing to Sheffield, but he knew he had no shot with her. Rubbing his hands together-frown plastered on his face, he picked up the chocolate glazed donut, he stuffed it into his mouth. "Damn this one good ass donut." he grinned, before finishing up the chocolate treat, picking up his water-bottle, he opened it and took a long swig; before eying the rest of the lovely treats before him.

"_I'm here with Skip Sheffield. A prominent part of the Nexus; who will go one-on-one with R-Truth later on tonight. Mister Sheffield, what are your thoughts?_" Reagan's voice rang in Sheffield's head, but his eyes were transfixed on the donuts; then he snapped out of his fantasy; practically glaring holes at the beautiful dirty-blonde before him.

"How do I feel? I feel pretty damn good about it." he proclaimed; "I'm ready. I'm ready to knock R-Truth's head off his shoulders." his eyes diverted to the snack tray for a split second.

Reagan gave a gulp, and a slightly confused look; "_It seems your a bit distracted. Do you think that'll interfere with your match tonight?"_

"Distracted?" Sheffield snapped to her. "Distracted? I do get distracted." he furrowed his brow, "-ever."

It was, he was distracted, with both his match-her-and food. "_Is there a reason why your back here-with the snack tray?_" Reagan asked meekly, as if to know that it would set Sheffield into a frenzy. She wasn't afraid of him, and that's what Sheffield liked about her, but she found him-complicatedly odd.

Sheffield grunted and frowned deeply, should he choose to end this interview with the beautiful Reagan to only have her question him, or should he give into his desire to have another few 'heavenly donuts' before him-all to fill the void in his life, that he couldn't possibly-well according to himself-become a champion-or achieve her. He eyed the tray; then picked up a donut and took a long delicious bite. "I'm hungry." he stated, that's obvious, "-for destroying R-Truth. To destroy anything and anyone that gets in my way." by the time the sentence was out of his mouth, Sheffield noticed he had scarfed down the donut, and had another few donuts in hand, before snarling to her-he always played the tough guy; "Got a problem with that?"

Reagan perked a brow, and shook her head; "_No, sir-" _she declared; "_-but it seems like you have a problem._" he pointed to the box full of donut's in Sheffield's hand. "_It's okay. You have a problem. You can overcome this._" Reagan was not a stupid woman, but Sheffield wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. He wasn't aware that he was clearly showing his weakness-to her.

Sheffield walked away, only to stop and glare down at her; "I have a problem?" he spat, take a big bite of the donut. "I DON'T have a problem!" he snarled, before stuffing the donut in his mouth-angrily, before walking away and out of site.

Reagan just sighed a bit; "_The first step is admitting you have a problem. Once he does that-he'll have a chance. Until then, he's just another human with issues." _


	4. Greed

**Title**: Greed.

**Character**[**s**]: Heath Slater; David Otunga; Josh Matthews; mentions of Jennifer Hudson; a random person.

**Pairings **[**if any**]: None.

**Arthor's Notes**: Greed; the want of wealth-often expressed through stealing from others for your own personal gain. Heath Slater just seemed to fit for some reason.

**Story Type**: Collection of 8 OneShots|Drabbles; Angst|Drama.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Plot Summary**: Heath Slater has a problem. He's a greedy man and it could possibly cost him his friends.

* * *

"Looks how shiny that thing is." the voice of Heath Slater echoed through the locker-room of the Nexus; peering over David Otunga's shoulder. The bright shinning of the beauful golden wristwatch caught the redheaded rockstar's eye. He gave a grin to his fellow Nexus member a nod. "How much did that cost ya David?"

Ontunga perked a brow, a self-centered smirk on his face; "_Thousand._" he nodded, "_Beautiful ain't it? Jennifer gave it to me for a good luck charm_." Heath's face tilted, he always thought that David bought things himself, but obviously he was wrong. Half the time, Otunga's wife-Jennifer Hudson-bought him his things. Heath's arms folded across his chest, inspecting the watch. The gold, it was something Heath wanted, but he obviously could not afford any such luxuries. He was determined to get something as shiny and nice-and gold like that watch. That perfect, gold, money-filled watched.

"Can I hold it, man?" Heath asked, a small smirk on his face, playing his innocent card-in order to at least hold just a expensive thing. "_Pshht. No._" David scoffed, chuckling, moving his arm away from Heath. Heath's brows furrowed to Otunga. "_Don't want your filthy little hands all over my watch._" Otunga rolled his eyes, before leaving Heath standing there in the locker-room alone.

Heath contemplated for a long while. "I am so gonna get that thing." he gave a big sly smirk, before leaving the locker-room.

After a few hours had past, Otunga was in a match-against some no-named RAW jobber; Heath walked about backstage-running a hand through his ginger locks. Walking about, the smirk still plastered on his face, he looked about, before coming up across a random worker backstage. "Hey man, you know where Otunga's locker-room is?" he asked the fat balding man-as he was pointed down the hall. "Thanks." he said, giving the older man a award winning smile. Heath had a plan, and he wasn't going to let anything get in his way.

Approaching the door labeled, '**_David Otunga_**' Heath placed a hand to the door. Smirk creeping onto his face. Looking to see if anyone was around, he thought to play coy; "Hey, David-you in there man?" there was no answer, nor was anyone around. He slowly pushed the door open and looked about.

That damned watch had to be there somewhere, and Heath was determined to find it. Rummaging through one of the dresser-drawer like compartments of the locker-room, Heath slung his fellow Nexus' members clothes about on the floor. Searching for his one need-that golden watch. "Where the hell are you?" he snarled, still throwing things about-until coming across a box.

The grin on Slater's face grew, as he picked up the small box. Eyes transfixed on it, he bit his lower lip. "Come to papa!" he muttered, opening the box to the golden delight. The watch that Slater wanted more than anything at this moment. Holding it delicately in his fingers, he examined it; "Aren't you precious." he grinned, before pocketing the watch in his bluejeans pocket, before exiting the locker-room, but was unaware that someone had seen him leave.

When Otunga's match was over, David was furious as to why his locker-room had looked as if a tornado had went through it. "_Where the hell is my watch? My wife gave me that!_" he was furious, and threw one of the books that was sitting on the untouched table. Heath stood in the doorway; "I dunno man. Somebody probably stole it." Otunga glared at Slater; "_Who do you think stole it?_" Heath just shrugged, before taking his leave from Otunga's sight.

Walking down the hallway, he heard a voice; "_Heath Slater! Can I have a word?_" Josh Matthews trotted up to the ginger rocker, and held his microphone; "_We just heard word that David Otunga's locker-room had been broken into, and a thousand dollar watch was stole. Your thoughts_?" Heath just gave a slight smirk; "Whoever took it-I can assume-is probably gonna sell it on eBay."

Josh gulped; "_You're going to sell it on eBay_?" he said meekly to Slater, who glared and arched a brow; "I didn't take it. Honestly." he put his hands up defensively. "_We have a witness that saw you go into David Otunga's locker-room, and exit a few minutes after wards_." Heath arched another eyebrow; Matthews was on him, he felt the watch grow heavy in his pocket. "So? I didn't take the damned watch."

Guilt was running through Heath's mind, but the golden watch was something-he had to have. He scoffed and turned away from Matthews, about to leave. Then he heard Matthews' next set of words. He contemplated over them carefully; "_If you did take it, give it back, Slater. It's the right thing to do. Friends don't steal from friends_."

Heath narrowed his brow, he made his mind up. "I didn't take it. I don't have it." he turned on his heels and walked away; that watch. Heath had got what he wanted, and he wasn't about to give it back. His greed had obviously got the better of him, and he was happy with that.

Matthew's stood there and sighed; "_He's not going to last long. Not with that attitude. Greed, it will only get you certain things. You'll end up loosing everything-even friend, over something stupid like a watch._"


	5. Sloth

**Title**: Sloth.

**Character**[**s**]: Darren Young; Michael Tarver; Wade Barret.

**Pairings **[**if any**]: None.

**Arthor's Notes**: Sloth; not carrying and being lazy. Found this to be perfect for him.

**Story Type**: Collection of 8 OneShots|Drabbles; Angst|Drama.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Plot Summary**: Darren Young has a problem; he doesn't care about his matches and thinks everything in life will be handed to him.

* * *

Darren Young sat backstage in the locker-room of the Nexus; feet kicked up onto the small table, his eyes closed. He was not here, not today at any costs; he was in _his world_, the world in which he was WWE champion, where he was the one making the shots for Nexus. Where he was the big star. He had recalled that he did have a match this night. One against Zack Ryder, but he didn't care. Normal people would have been getting ready for their big match, but not Young. No. He didn't feel the need. Why should he get all worked up and focused on a match that he knew he'd win, against some nobody by the name of Zack Ryder.

Young continued to doze off in his fantasy world; not paying any mind to Wade Barrett speaking out about how important each match was for the Nexus tonight; he wasn't interested in what the outcome was-when he knew he'd win. "Darren, are you listening?" he heard a voice say to him, as he felt a hard slap to his boots.

Opening an eye he jumped at the sight of Michael Tarver standing over him. A confused look appeared on Young's face; "Yeah, I heard it. Got it."

Tarver looked toward the young man, then toward Barrett whom seem unimpressed, but did not question it. He let it slide, this time. "This time. NO MISTAKES." the Brit said sternly to his fellow Nexus' members, before turning to Young-glaring at the man-before exiting the room.

Young sat up and blinked a few times. Tarver glared at him. "Don't screw this up, boy." he snapped, before exiting the room as well. Young gathered up his thoughts, trying to remember exactly what Barrett had said moments before, but couldn't. He just couldn't.

"Eh, no big deal. I got this." Young said, before leaning back into his chair; before closing his eyes one last time.

The hour had pasted, and Young awoke to find someone knocking on the locker-room door. "Shit." he mumbled to himself, getting up and hurrying to the door, opening it-only to find a stage hand looking for him.

"_Mister Young, your match is started. You needed in the ring; now._" the man said, before Young furrowed his brow, before pushing the man aside.

"Don't worry, I got this. I got this." Young stated, before walking slowly to the ring. Why should he be on time, when he already knew this was his match to win? Young walked away with a smug look on his face.

"_Sure. You got this, Mister Young. The match already started, and you lost. Zack Ryder won._" the man called to Young, whom stopped in his tracks.

A look of shock appeared on Young's face; "You are kidding right?" he asked, thinking he was being _**Punk'D**_ by Ashton Kutcher or something.

"_No sir._" the man replied, before feeling his phone buzz. Picking up his cell-phone the man read the text message he received. "_Wade Barrett and the Nexus are looking for you_." he told Young.

"Shit." Young mumbled, he didn't show up to his match; he had let his team down. "Where are they?" he asked the man, but the man shrugged. He didn't know, and if he did-he probably wouldn't tell him.

"_Why didn't you go to you match? It was against Zack Ryder. You could have won._" the man asked, but Young did not reply. Not at first anyways. He thought for a long time on the answer he'd give the man.

"I was-wasn't feeling well." Young lied; "-something came up." he had some panic in his voice, before looking over his shoulder. If Barrett and the others found him, God only knew what they'd do to him for loose a match by a no-show. It made them look weak.

"_You were asleep again, weren't you?_" the man asked; it was as if the man had a six sense to these things, but truth was-the man knew Darren Young had a problem. The kid was lazy, and didn't seem to care about anything-or the consequences to his own actions.

"No, I wasn't asleep. What the hell makes you think that old man?" Young spat, before looking wide eyed, before walking away annoyed and certainly worried about what would become of him.

"_Lazy bastard. Dreaming won't get you anywhere. Hard work and dedication is the key to success in this business._" the man watched Young walk away from him; "_May the Gods of wrestling have mercy on his soul-when the Nexus gets a hold of him_."


End file.
